


Still live on

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Brian and Roger caring a lot about each other!!!!, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, but not really it was just a dream!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-07 01:37:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18228158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Roger has a nightmare in which Brian dies.It hits him really hard.





	Still live on

**Author's Note:**

> Title from All dead, all dead. Set in the mid-late 70s

Roger is in a hospital, waiting. There are no other patients, and there are no signs, but he knows he's in a hospital. It's uncomfortable, those painful lights in his eyes, the silence, only broken by some distant moans and some coughing. He's in a hospital and he knows, and it hurts. He can hear his own breathing.

Waiting. He's waiting for something, for an update, for news. The wait is killing him. Fuck, awful choice of words. Nothing is killing no one, nobody is dying. Death can't touch them. Death won't touch them. He sees Freddie's face and his eyes are sad and Roger knows why, he knows perfectly, but he can't allow himself to say it, not even think it. It's too much, it's hurting him. The pain is too much. He cannot put it in words, it's only a blur that hurts inside him, but he knows. Somehow he knows.

“He's strong. He will be all right.” John's voice is faint in the background.

He hasn't said anything, but Roger knows. He can only see the painful light and the long long corridor, full of door of rooms bt where no one else seems to be. It's just them in the hospital, only them and their dread, their painful wait. It feels normal for Roger. They are the only ones that matter, so there is no one else. Just the long white corridor, and the painful lights, hurting his eyes and reminding him where they are. This is a hospital. They are waiting. It hurts.

Suddenly Freddie's hand is on his. Freddie is scared, Roger knows. It's understandable. Roger's scared too, absolutely frightened. The wait is horrifying but when it ends... It could break their world in little pieces. Because they are hoping to hear good news, but still... The light is painful and ominous in a way. The light is mocking him, telling him that the hurt he knows is nothing compared to what is coming. The light hurts. The light knows.

It's Brian. Nobody has said anything, but Roger knows it. Brian is behind one of those doors, and his life is in danger and they are waiting to know if he will pull through. It happened too quickly, too fast for Roger to wrap his mind around the idea that Brian...There's some kind of memory of how Brian was brought to the hospital urgently and they only saw a glimpse of him as doctors busied themselves with him.(Brian's eyes are etched into Roger, who can't forget them. He's asking for help, and Roger can't help. It hurts) Brian is seriously ill, on the edge of life itself, and now they are waiting to know what is happening. How their friend is. If he's going to live.

Roger's own breathing is maddening in his ears, and only getting louder as time passes. He absolutely needs to know, but it seems that he will never know, and it's driving him insane. His breathing is getting louder, the corridor is longer, Freddie's eyes are getting sadder, and John's positive comments are beginning to sound like cruel jokes, even though Roger knows John would never do that. Everything is too much, and Roger feels that time is getting fuzzy.

And indescribable stretch of time later, there is a doctor walking towards them. Roger can't really discern his face (it doesn't matter, all that matter are his words, those words that will help them breathe or crush them) but his heart stops when he hears how solemn the steps are. The others can tell too, and they are shaking their heads. This cannot be. Please, please, it cannot be. They're too young, he's too important, too necessary, too... He cannot be. This cannot be.

But somehow, it is.

“I am very sorry. He didn't make it.”

Roger cannot breathe anymore. There is no air in the room and the world has gone dark. Somehow he knows that he's crying, can feel the tears, smell them, taste them. What is crying good for, now? Tears won't change what has happened. Nothing will – nothing ever will bring him back because they have lost him forever.

The realisation shatters Roger, makes him break into little pieces. He's dead. They've lost him for good. He will never open his eyes again, they will never hear his voice again. But this cannot be. Roger needs him, NEEDS HIM!! Brian is one of the strongest presences in Roger's life. A friend no matter how much they fought, someone who cn calm him down, someone that makes him laugh. He has helped when Roger needed him, and he has always tried to help Brian too. And yet, he cannot do anything. He cannot do anything and it hurts.

He lets out the most harrowing scream but somehow the whiteness of the walls and the lights of the hospital eat all the sound. His screams won't change what's happened. His screams won't change the fact that he's gone. That he is not coming back. Roger's hands are shaking and he hates them. Why is he alive? Why are any of them. This is wrong, all of it is wrong, and it hurts, dammit, it hurts so much.

There's the faint sound of crying and little plaintive sounds coming from his friends. Nobody can bear this. They all want to think that the doctor is mistaken, that it is not real. Something's wrong. The doctor tells them that they can see him, say goodbye. Roger wants to see him, needs to see him one last time, but knows that seeing him like that is going to hurt much more than anything else.

It's horrifying. Brian is there, but he isn't there, not anymore. He's gone. There's only his body left.

One of his oldest and dearest friends, someone who always been there for him, absolutely irreplaceable and his eyes are closed, and his skin is grey and ashen, and there are voices behind him, screaming that they are sorry, that there was nothing they could do, and Roger takes Brian's hand and it's cold, it's so cold, and this CANNOT BE HAPPENING

“no, no, nO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

 

*

 

Roger gasped as he woke up, scared out of his mind, sitting up brutally, holding the mattress with both hands. And then he broke into a sob, because fuck, had that happened? The hurt was still inside him, the overwhelming pain from seeing Brian in that hospital bed, feeling the cold, watching the chest so still, the face so ashen....Was Brian dead, did he see him???

He cried for a while in his bed, trying to make sense of what happened. And after some seconds of pure sorrow, it clicked. He was in his bed because it had all been a dream. A fucking nightmare. Which meant that none of it had happened, there was never any hospital, any doctor telling him that “he didn't make it”. The very sentence made Roger shiver. It had felt so real.... He'd been there, the hospital had been real, Freddie's eyes, John's voice in the background, the cold in Brian's hand....

He tried to compose himself but couldn't. Tried to think about something else but couldn't. He couldn't be in his bedroom, he couldn't...Everything made his head go back to that nightmare. Without much thought he put on some pants, took the keys to his car and drove. He was going too fast, but he didn't care. He needed to get that image out of his head, the image of his dead friend, that hurt so much. It was haunting him and he wouldn't be able to breathe in peace until it was banished.

Brian was awoken by someone knocking on his door strong enough to bring it down.

“Brian, open up!”

It was Roger, that was absolutely his voice, but something was wrong, he sounded really distressed. His friend's voice was even more high pitched than usual, and even more hoarse, as if he'd been crying for too long and was still trying to control the tears. Not like Roger at all. Something must have happened.

Concerned, he went to the door, hoping this wasn't something too serious. That Roger hadn't maimed himself, or lost a family member or something like that. Maybe he'd been partying and had hurt himself, maybe simply someone had insulted him and he'd got sad about it, maybe... When he opened the door he saw Roger in the messiest state he'd ever been.

His hair was sticking up in every direction, he was barefoot and wearing only a pajama top and some unbuttoned jeans, and his face was covered in tear tracks. He looked at Brian in wonder (he was alive, ALIVE!) and without hesitation enveloped Brian in a fairly painful embrace, holding the older man's tee tightly and burying his face in Brian's chest, not caring about anything else.

Roger was like that for a good entire minute, refusing to let go, buried in his friend's body, touching it, feeling it, even managed to hear, feel Brian's heartbeat. The sound helped him breathe – it was making him strong again. It made not just his mind but his body too, understand that it had been a dream. That it was not real. No need to hurt anymore.

“Roger? What's wrong, why...”

Still plastered to his friend (he was never letting go), he muttered, with a small voice that kept breaking.

“I had a dream that you died. It was so real, Bri, you were cold, and your skin was turning grey, and...”

There were more tears, even if Roger knew that he had no reason for them. He held tighter, buried himself again on that bony chest. Brian hushed him, ran his hand through his friend's back, trying to offer some comfort. When he managed to untangle himself from Roger he would make some tea and they would think about something else, distract themselves from the horrors of dreams. Brian knew them well. But for now, Roger needed to feel him and they would stay there on that doorway, hugging, as long as it was necessary.

“...you... you can't... I love you, Brian, you can't leave me...” The raw feelings in Roger's voice made Brian's heart ache a little. Poor Roger had been really shaken up by this dream.

“I love you too, Rog.”

Roger didn't want to let go. He knew that it had been a dream, he had reassured himself long enough that it wasn't and it was probably too long and too uncomfortable the time they spent there, but Roger didn't want to let go.

“Sssssh. It's okay. I'm here.” Brian's familiar voice said, and it was helpful in a way. It was getting Roger to clam down a bit, to breathe, to be able to concentrate on something else. He let go, however slowly, and looked at Brian with bloodshot blue eyes.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's all right.” Brian said. “Come on in.”

Roger then realised that he had woken Brian up in the middle of the night, that the poor man had only a shirt and some boxers on, that he'd actually had a breakdown without explaining anything in a doorway.

“I'll make some tea, yes?” Brian said, with a small smile.

Roger sat on Brian's couch, saw the guitar, smiled, tried to clean his face. Things were fine. It was only a dream.

“Must have been quite a dream, huh?” Brian said, when he came back with the tea. He'd never seen Roger so shaken about a dream before. He didn't even remember hearing him say anything about having nightmares.

“It was... it was so real! For a moment when I woke up I didn't know if you were gone or not... and...I just... I'm sorry I barged in on you like this, I needed to make sure that you were okay...”

“Don't be sorry, Rog. It's natural to want some comfort after a bad nightmare. And I'm touched that you care so much, that there is someone who would care if I was gone.”

“BUT YOU WON'T BE! And of course I care, you've been in my life forever, but... You can't... just look after yourself, ok? I need you.”

There was another hug, calmer this time. Roger felt that things were slowly going back to their place, that it was going to be okay. He smiled at Brian, and his friend smiled back. The herbal tea was soothing and calming. They were together, and they were alive.

“We have a long day tomorrow, and you're clearly exhausted...”

“I can't go back to bed, Bri, I...”

“You don't have to sleep. Just come with me to the bedroom, there's room in my bed for someone else. Just being in bed is more rest than being on a couch, don't you think?”

And so there they were, in the bed, so terribly close. Roger was snuggled up in front of Brian, who was peacefully sleeping, watching him, taking in the sight of his friend, with all his long limbs and unique face, just sleeping, living. He was such a remarkable person, Brian. So important, so special. Roger really hadn't realised just how incredibly important this man was, until he thought he could lose him. Which wasn't acceptable, which hurt like hell.

But it would be all right, now. Roger could see the rise and fall of his friend's chest, could see him breathing, could hear him breathing. Could hear hear his own breathing too, but it was okay. There was no white light and no hospital. Nothing hurt.

They would still live on.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you likes! Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you enjoyed please do leave a comment! Thanksss


End file.
